In John Gardner’s Grendel, Gardner retells the story of Beowulf through Grendel’s perspective. After killing multiple guards in Hrothgar’s hall, Grendel retreats to his cave and is awakened by Unferth, a loyal warrior, who seeks glory in death. Grendel won’t oblige him, but before he returns him safely back to Hrothgar’s hall, he’s cynical of Unferth’s “heroic” attitude. Unferth recognizes this and replies, “Go ahead, scoff. Except in the life of a hero, the whole world’s meaningless. The hero sees values beyond what’s possible. That’s the nature of a hero. It kills him, of course, ultimately. But it makes the whole struggle of humanity worthwhile” (89). In fiction, point of view is everything. Grendel is an attractive piece of literature, in that Gardner does a rare and unorthodox thing—he retells a classic story through the “villains” perspective. Through this viewpoint, Hrothgar comes across as a tyrant, Beowulf a bully, and the rest of society—wasteful, gluttonous, sexual perverts who have no respect for Mother Nature or the nourishment it provides.
This alternate perspective can be applied to John Milton’s Paradise Lost, for the epic poem opens from the villain’s point of view, that of Satan. Through Satan’s eyes, our judgments of the Father, Man, and Earth are skewed, and what bubbles up are external representations of tyranny, deceit, and waste. However, through Satan’s eyes, internal, self-serving representations of tyranny, deceit, and pride are also observed, for Satan doesn’t want to make the universe a better place, he wants to replace the Father, and take his seat on the throne. Both of these representations act as a double edged sword, and both, when placed against Milton’s essays and outside scholarship, can be analyzed, revealing a strong problematic debate over the positive and negative character attributes and flaws Satan exhibits in the poem; when we “the reader” symbolize through Satan’s perspective. Through this analysis, we come across conflicting insights, judgments, but more importantly, we learn new ways of thinking about heroism, then making absolutist conclusions through our discerning of the material.
In “Heroism and Paradise Lost,” author William R. Herman writes, “One of the problems in reading Milton’s Paradise Lost—the determination of who is its hero—results from our own vague understanding of what constitutes heroism and of what qualities are to be associated with the heroic character” (13). In Milton’s The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, an individuals ability to “reason,” is just one of the badges of honor Milton argued for which called upon all men to be governed by their own judgments, not the customs or orders of others.
With this “heroic” idea, Milton writes, “If men within themselves would be governed by reason and not generally give up their understanding of double tyranny of custom from without and blind affections within, they would discern better what it is to favor and uphold the tyrant of a nation” (750). Through this standard, an individual can create a society in their own image—if they give in to their ability to reason. If they can accomplish that, then they can begin the process of discerning between good and evil, gaining wisdom along the way.
In Book One, we notice Satan using reason to discern the “unfairness” which is brought upon him by the Father. Satan remarks, “What shall be right: fardest from him is best / Whom reason hath equall’d, force hath made supreme / Above his equals” (I. 247-49). If God’s “might” determines “right,” then where is real value, or true liberty to be found? Shortly after this line, Satan remarks, “The mind is its own place, and in itself / Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n” (I. 254-55). Satan is picking himself up by the boot straps, and through the beating of reason’s drum is showing us that where you are isn’t important—it’s who you are. Like the citizenry Milton is crying out too in The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, Milton is teaching us through Satan’s perspective, not to let, no matter how impressive or formidable, a hostile environment (i.e. “government”) determine who you are.
However, here is where that nasty double edged sword comes into play, for Satan wants to be the tyrant, and these seemingly noble gestures of chivalry offer a false façade through this one-sided symbolic perspective. Instead, what is representative a short while later in the poem—is an unhidden lust for power. Satan remarks, “But I should ill become this Throne, O Peers, / And this Imperial Sov’ranty, adorn’d / With splendor, arm’d with power, if aught propos’d / [...] Wherefore do I assume / These Royalties, and not refuse to Reign” (II. 445-51). These lines show that Satan is about hierarchy and wants the office of top ruler. He doesn’t want to stop the process of avenging his own fall. This is the hypocrisy of Satan or duplicity. He wants to be the thing he’s criticizing. He says one thing and does the other.
It is at this point, Herman swings the double edged sword, and creates two separate perspectives of Satan, that of “Biblical and Hellenic” hero (14). Concerning the attributes of Biblical hero, Herman writes, “[...] within the Biblical tradition Satan can lay no claims to heroism. His conclave in heaven is called in secret; he is cunning and deceitful, and on every possible occasion he disobeys the will of God while being fully cognizant of that will” (15). We note Satan’s willful disobedience, and resolve with Satan replying, “To do aught good never will be our task, / But ever to do ill our sole delight, / As being the contrary to his high will / Whom we resist. If then his Providence / Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, / Our labor must be to pervert that end, / And out of good still to find means of evil” (I. 159-65). Satan wants to be king of the mountain and run things the way he sees fit.
Nonetheless, Herman offers us a different or opposing perspective of Satan: that of the Hellenic hero. Concerning the Hellenic hero, Herman writes, “With the Hellenic hero we associate those qualities of individuality, self-determination, and physical courage that endure alone against what seems to be ineluctable odds” (13). From Satan’s perspective, he is in a dungeon filled “With stench and smoke” (I.237), and “. . . Land that ever burn’d / With solid, as the Lake with fire” (I. 228-29); a place which, through Satan’s description, comes across as the antithesis of Heaven. We note Satan’s “Hellenic” qualities in his ability to lead, tolerating such a place through his own despair and pain.
What further separates Satan from the “Biblical hero” conception, and one which Herman overlooks, is Satan’s open door policy concerning debate and discourse. Satan doesn’t want to commit an error in deciding what to do next, and invites his top fellow fallen demons: Moloch, Belial, Mammon, and Beelzebub, to participate in a friendly civilized debate of “what the hell (note pun) should we do now?” It is here, at this point, Milton allows the reader to come across yet another “Hellenic” badge of heroism, concerning Satan.
In Milton’s Areopagitica, a work symbolizing knowledge through discourse, reading, and engagement, all of which culminate into individual rights concerning civil liberty—in which, we the reader, find a comparison to “Hellenic” heroism, through Satan’s example of civilized debate amongst his fellow demons in Book Two. Milton writes of the Roman empire, citing, “The books of those whom they took to be grand heretics were examined, refuted, and condemned in the general councils; and not till then were prohibited, or burnt, by authority of the emperor” (723). For centuries there was no internal mechanism, no artificial system in place, to prevent literature from being circulated. The Romans read, debated, and decided if they should “act” upon burning heretic books, or literature that didn’t coincide with their beliefs.
This connects to what is occurring in the meeting between Satan and his demons. There is a free debate taking place in Book Two, for there is no “egg timer” (i.e. internal mechanism), for how long Moloch can speak—all are allowed to participate and offer their individual opinion. All are allowed to have a voice. All are allowed to retain a small form of civil liberty, from the tyrannical form of the Father. But here in lies the great debate amongst the majority of scholars. Using Herman’s separation of the Biblical and Hellenic hero, the question still arises and the debate continues: why do the words tyrant and hero offer a disparity in our understanding of Satan?
In Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Campbell offers his own definition of “tyrant” in a chapter entitled, “The Hero as Warrior.” Campbell writes, “The tyrant is proud, and therein resides his doom. He is proud because he thinks of his strength as his own; thus he is in the clown role, as a mistaker of shadow for substance; it is his destiny to be tricked” (337). When Satan is placed next to the Father, both come across as two “proud” individuals possessing “regal” attributes, and both are depicted as two warring tyrants battling it out. In Book One, Satan spits, “What matter where, if I be still the same, / And what I should be, all but less than hee / Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least / We shall be free” (I. 256-59). Satan is affirming that he doesn’t have to be obedient to the Father anymore. His pride causes him to loose his true liberty, for pride won’t allow you to see yourself as whom you really are—it offers the wrong image of self.
In Joan S. Bennett’s Reviving Liberty: Radical Christian Humanism in Milton’s Great Poems, Bennett comments on the “Royal Portraits” Milton paints in Paradise Lost, in an attempt to pinpoint the disparity between the two words (33). Bennett writes:
[Concerning] the argument for the divine right of kings: that a king or tyrant, whoever currently holds power over a people, whether just or unjust according to any heretofore accepted national or natural law, can rightly by virtue of his strength control his subjects’ behavior [...] That Satan’s rebellion against fundamental law entails the corruption and extinction of true liberty in himself and his followers has been recognized by many critics of Paradise Lost. (46-47)
Campbell nailed it on the head in writing, “The tyrant is proud, and therein resides his doom” (337), and Bennett’s piece reaffirms this for Satan, before the fall, thought he was more powerful—then the one who created him. His doom falls under the Greek word Ate, which can be translated into, “[...] the one who cannot escape . . . the one who is doomed” (Morford 107). Pride traps you, and through Satan’s perspective, we note him trapped in a dungeon of his own imagining. Satan remarks, “Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell” (IV. 75). Satan has focused on the wrong objective—a goal which can never be obtained. He would rather be in hell as number one then number two in heaven.
In heaven, he was Lucifer, a name which meant “light-bearer,” more beautiful than any other angel around him. Then he was cast down—and in the darkness became Satan. This fundamental concept of going against the Father seems ridiculous to the reader, for reason and logic are abandoned: I’m going to be stronger than the man who sent me here? Then the one who created me? Pride blinds Satan, and in his blindness, he’s going to prove his power by damaging something the Father created—man on Earth. In Satan’s blind emotional pursuit of power he becomes less powerful, more deceitful, and treacherous through each Book—and yet, Satan can still come across as heroic.
In Michael Bryson’s “The Biblical Roots of Divine Kingship,” Bryson asserts that Milton intended this, writing:
Milton’s use of Satan and his rebellion against an absolute monarch in heaven also helps to answer the perennial question of why Satan seems to overwhelm the reader’s senses with the scope of his Achillean heroism. Satan is suppose to seem heroic—and not in [Stanley] Fish’s sense of misleading the unwary reader line by line. Satan’s heroism is real, and therefore his slow degeneration from Book One to Book Ten is not, as C.S. Lewis would have it, farcical, but legitimately tragic. (135)
We the reader, emphasize with Satan—because we can relate to Satan’s humanistic qualities. Satan is more human than the Father, for Satan is susceptible to temptation, emotion, and acceptance. Adam and Satan together, violate the Father’s law, for when Adam ate the fruit he lost paradise—so did Satan. He can identify with Adam. Evil exists because of Satan’s desire to confront the Father, his disobedience lofty in terms of heroism, but it was his pride; his want to be the Father’s equal; to be the creator; to have the power—his ultimate mistake. Lust for power and pride blinded him, and he fell. But can we blame him? Through Satan’s perspective, the Father does come across as a tyrant. Author Robert Thomas Fallon points out in Divided Empire: Milton’s Political Imagery, that, “. . . God creates the universe according to the natural law, from which he declares himself unwilling to depart. It is a law, moreover, whose provisions call for absolute obedience to his will, for any violation demands the ultimate punishment” (34). We note the Fathers “demands,” but more importantly, what will happen if anyone violates his word in Book Three, with, “Die hee or Justice must” (III. 210). Thus, the Father sits, unequalled, unmatched, on a throne all alone.
In his book, Milton’s Royalism: A Study of the Conflict of Symbol and Idea in the Poems, author Malcolm Mackenzie Ross discusses how a readers perspective of Satan and the Father, both as “royalist symbols,” merge together and create confusion over who is the hero (111). Ross remarks, “In Paradise Lost the royalist symbol consistently suggests no value except power. A confusion of other values inevitably results. This confusion is most pronounced in the treatment of characters where clear-cut distinctions of good and evil are necessary” (112). In Book Four we hear Satan’s internal reasoning, questioning the justice of his fall against the Father’s use of power. Satan remarks, “Hadst thou the same free Will and Power to stand? / Thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse, / But Heav’n’s free Love dealt equally to all? Be then his Love accurst, since love or hate, / To me alike, it deals eternal woe” (4. 66-70). Through these standards, Satan, through critical internal debate, clasps himself outside the laws (or walls) of heaven, ruled by a tyrannical Father in his questioning of the justice behind his own fall. The Father set him up, and the Father knows all. Milton could never understand god. Why didn’t the Father give Adam a dog if he wanted a companion in Book Eight? Instead he gives him a good looking woman? Satan has needs, like Adam, and we can relate. He’s more like us. In comics, Batman can die if a bullet hits him in the mouth. No one aims there, I don’t know why—but not Superman. Bullets bounce off Superman, because Superman is an alien—he’s not human. The Father, like Superman, is not human—he is the creator. Lucifer was created by the Father—which makes him, albeit not the same in size and power, but it makes him more human. Satan’s vulnerable, and the Father has true liberty, he’s untouchable.
In the end, we note that taking a symbolic perspective, by reading Paradise Lost through Satan’s eyes, offers a disparity between what we the reader recognize as heroic or tyrannical characteristics. In Douglas Bush’s, “Characters and Drama,” Bush writes, “[...] since God is so unpleasant and Satan is a being of such magnificent vitality, Milton, in spite of his consciously different purpose, must have put his heart and soul into the projection of Satan” (111). Concerning Paradise Lost, C.S. Lewis once remarked, “It will . . . be unintelligible to those who lack the right qualifications, and hateful to the baser spirits among them” (Achinstein, 15).
Works Cited
Achinstein, Sharon. Milton and the Revolutionary Reader. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1994.
Bennett, Joan S. Reviving Liberty: Radical Christian Humanism in Milton’s Great Poems. Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1989.
Bryson, Michael. “His Tyranny Who Reigns: The Biblical Roots of Divine Kingship and Milton’s Rejection of Heav’n’s King.” Milton Studies 43 (2004): 111-144.
Bush, Douglas. “Characters and Drama.” Milton: Paradise Lost. Ed. Louis L. Martz. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1966. 109-120.
Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1973.
Fallon, Robert Thomas. Divided empire: Milton’s Political Imagery. Pennsylvania: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1995.
Gardner, John. Grendel. New York: Vintage Books, 1971.
Herman, William R. “Heroism and Paradise Lost.” College English 21:1 (1959): 13-17.
Holy Bible: The New King James Version. Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1992.
Milton, John. John Milton: Complete Poems and Major Prose. Ed. Merritt Y. Hughes. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2003.
Morford, Mark P.O. and Robert J. Lenardon. Classical Mythology. 5th ed. New York: Longman Publishers, 1995.
Ross, Malcolm Mackenzie. Milton’s Royalism: A Study of the Conflict of Symbol and Idea in the Poems. New York: Russell & Russell, 1970.
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